poet: Apollo was a Dorian deity, yet his chief shrine was here upon Phocian ground. Perhaps some traditions remained to suggest an explanation of the anomaly; at any rate the poet is not at a loss for an account of the matter. The temple being established, Apollo bethought himself what race of priests he should make its ministers: at least, such is the naïve account in the poem, which expects us to forget that temples do not arise in the absence of predetermined servants and worshippers. While pondering this question, however, Apollo cast his eyes on the sea where it chanced that a swift ship, manned by many and excellent Cretans, was merrily sailing: whereupon the god, taking the form of a huge dolphin, leapt into the ship, to the infinite surprise and bewilderment of those worthy merchants, who, as innocent as the fishers of the Galilæan Lake of the religious destiny that awaited them, were thinking only of the pecuniary profits of their voyage. The presence of the god benumbed their movements, and they stood silent while the ship sailed before the wind. And the blast, veering at this place with the changed configuration of the coast, blew them irresistibly to the very foot of Parnassus, to the little haven of Crissa. There Apollo appeared to them once more, this time running down to the beach to meet them in the form of

 "A stout and lusty fellow, His mighty shoulders covered with his mane; Who sped these words upon the wings of sound: 'Strangers, who are ye? and whence sail ye hither The watery ways? Come ye to traffic justly Or recklessly like pirates of the deep Rove ye, adventuring your souls, to bring Evil on strangers? Why thus sit ye grieving, Nor leap on land, nor strike the mast and lay it In your black ship? For so should traders do When, sated with the labour of the sea, They quit their painted galley for the shore, And presently the thought of needful food Comes gladsomely upon them.' So he spake, Putting new courage in their breasts. To whom The Cretan captain in his turn replied: 'Since thou art nothing like to things of earth In form or stature, but most like the gods That ever live, Hail, and thrice hail, O Stranger, And may the gods pour blessings on thy head. Now tell me truly, for I need to know, What land is this, what people, from what race Descended? As for us, over the deep Broad sea, we sought another haven, Pylos, Sailing from Crete, for thence we boast to spring; But now our ship is cast upon this shore, For some god steered our course against our will.' Then the far-darter spoke and answered them. 'Friends, in well-wooded Cnossus hitherto Ye have had homes, but ye shall not again Return to your good native town, to find Each his fair house and well-belovèd wife, But here 

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